Rachel Gibson - Simply Irresistible

“We saw you play against the Black Hawks,” said one of the boys, with a picture of a snowboarder on his T-shirt. “I loved the way you hip-checked Chelios at center ice. Man, he flew.”

John remembered that game, too. He’d received a minor penalty and a bruise the size of a cantaloupe. It had hurt like hell, but that was part of the game. Part of his job.

“I’m glad to hear you enjoyed it,” he said, and looked into their young eyes. The hero worship he saw there made him uncomfortable; it always did. “Do you play hockey?”

“Just street,” the other boy answered.

“Where?” He turned to Lexie and reached for her hand so that she wouldn’t feel left out.

“Over at the elementary school by my house. We get a whole bunch of guys together and play.”

As the two boys filled him in on their street hockey, he noticed a young woman walking straight toward them. Her jeans were so tight they looked painful, and her tank top didn’t reach her navel. John could detect a sexually aggressive rink bunny at fifty paces. They were always around. Waiting in a hotel lobby, outside the locker room, and positioned next to the team bus. Women eager to get it on with celebrities were easy to spot in a crowd. It was all in the way they walked and flipped their hair. It was the determined look in their eyes.

He hoped this woman would walk right on past.

She didn’t.

“David, your mom wants you,” she said as she stopped next to the two boys.

“Tell her in just a second.”

“She said now.”

“Dang!”

“It was good to meet you guys.” John reached out to shake their hands. “The next time you’re at a game, wait for me outside the locker room and I’ll introduce you to some of the guys.”

“Really?”

“All right!”

When the two walked away, the woman stayed behind. John let go of Lexie’s hand and glanced down at the top of her head. “It’s time to reel in your kite,” he said. “Your mom will wonder what happened to us.”

“You John Kowalsky?”

He looked up. “That’s right,” he answered, his tone clearly letting her know that he wasn’t interested in her company. She was pretty enough, but she was skinny and had that fake blond look to her, like she’d been left out in the sun too long. Determination hardened her light blue eyes, and he wondered how rude she was going to force him to get with her.

“Well, John,” she said, and slowly pushed the corners of her lips upward into a seductive smile. “I’m Connie.” Her eyes raked him from head to toe. “And you look pretty good in those jeans.”

He was fairly certain he’d heard that line before, but it had been a while and he couldn’t remember it exactly. Not only was she encroaching on his private time with Lexie, she wasn’t very original either.

“But I think I’d look better. Why don’t you take them off and we’ll see?”

Now John remembered. The first time he’d heard it, he’d been twenty and had just signed with Toronto. He’d probably been stupid enough to bite. “I think both of us should keep our pants on,” he said, and wondered why men were the only gender accused of using cheap old pickup lines. Women’s come-ons were equally bad, and most often downright raunchy.

“Okay. I could just crawl right on inside.” She ran the tip of one long red fingernail along his waistband, then down.

John reached out to remove her finger from his fly, but Lexie took care of the problem. She batted the woman’s hand away, then stepped between them.

“That’s a bad touch,” Lexie said as she glared up at Connie. “You could get into really big trouble.”

The woman’s smile faltered as she glanced down. “Is she yours?”

John chuckled softly, amused by Lexie’s fierce expression. He’d certainly needed his share of security before, especially in the City of Brotherly Love, where the fans could get real nasty if someone put the big hurt on their team. But he’d never been guarded by a girl, much less a girl under four feet. “Her mother is a friend of mine,” he said through his smile.

She looked back up at John and flipped her hair. “Why don’t you send her to Mama, and you and I can go for a drive in my car. I have a big backseat.”

A quickie in the back of a Buick didn’t even arouse his curiosity. “I’m not interested.”

“I’ll do things to you that no other woman has done.”

John seriously doubted her claim. He figured he’d pretty much done everything at least once; more often than not, he’d done it twice just to make sure. He placed his hand on Lexie’s shoulder and considered several different ways to tell Connie to get lost. With his daughter so close, he had to be careful how he phrased his rejection.

Georgeanne’s approach saved him the trouble. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said with that honeyed voice of hers.

He turned to Georgeanne and wrapped an arm around her waist. With his hand on her hip, he looked into her stunned face and smiled. “I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

“John?” she gasped.

Rather than answer the question in her voice, he raised his hand from Lexie’s shoulder and pointed to the blond woman. “Georgie, honey, this is Connie.”

Georgeanne forced one of her phony smiles and said, “Hello, Connie.”

Connie gave Georgeanne a thorough once-over, then shrugged. “It could have been a kick,” she told John, and turned to leave.

As soon as Connie walked away, John watched the corners of Georgeanne’s full lips fall into a straight line. She looked as if she wanted to hit him with a sharp elbow.

“Are you high?”

John smiled and whispered in her ear. “We’re supposed to be friends, remember? I’m just doing my part.”

“Do you grope all your friends?”

John laughed. He laughed at her, at the whole situation, but mostly he laughed at himself. “Only the pretty ones with green eyes and sassy mouths. You might want to remember that.”

That evening, after the picnic, Georgeanne still felt raw. Dealing with John had snapped her last nerve, and Mae certainly hadn’t helped one bit. Instead of offering support, Mae had spent her time insulting Hugh Miner, who seemed to have enjoyed the abuse. He’d eaten with relish, laughed tolerantly, and had teased Mae until Georgeanne worried for the man’s safety.

Now all Georgeanne wanted was a hot bath, a cucumber facial, and a loofah. But her bath would have to wait until she came clean to Charles. If she wanted any kind of a future with him, she would have to tell him about John. She would have to tell him she lied about Lexie’s father. She would have to tell him tonight. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation, but she wanted to get it over with.

The doorbell rang and she ushered Charles into the house. “Where’s Lexie?” he asked, glancing about the living room. He looked comfortable and relaxed in a pair of chinos and a white polo shirt. The light brush of gray at his temples lent dignity to his handsome face.

“I put her to bed.”

Charles smiled and placed his hands on the sides of Georgeanne’s face. He gave her a long, gentle kiss. A kiss that offered more than hot passion. More than a one-night stand.

The kiss ended and Charles looked into her eyes. “You sounded worried on the phone.”

“I am, a little,” she confessed. She took his hand and sat next to him on the couch. “Do you remember when I told you Lexie’s daddy was dead?”

“Sure, his F-16 was shot down during the Gulf War.”

“Well, I may have embellished a bit-actually, a lot.” She took a deep breath and told him about John. She told him about their meeting seven years ago, and she told him about the picnic that afternoon. When she was finished, Charles didn’t look pleased, and she was afraid she’d damaged their relationship.

“You could have told me the truth the first time,” he said.

“Maybe, but I’ve just gotten so used to lying about it that I never really stopped to think about the truth after a while. Then when John walked back into my life, I thought he’d hurry and grow tired of playing daddy, and I wouldn’t have to tell her or anyone.”

“You don’t think he’ll grow tired of Lexie now?”

“No. Today in the park he was very attentive to her, and he made a date to take her to the exhibit at the Pacific Science Center next week.” She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s going away.”

“How will seeing him affect you?”

“Me?” she asked as she looked into his gray eyes.

“He’s in your life. You’ll see him from time to time.”

“That’s right. And your ex-wife is in your life.”

He looked down. “It’s not the same.”

“Why not?”

He smiled slightly. “Because I find Margaret extremely unappealing.”

He wasn’t angry. He was jealous, just as Mae had predicted.

“And John Kowalsky,” he continued, “is a good-looking guy.”

“So are you.”

He reached for her hand. “You have to tell me if I’m competing with a hockey player.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Georgeanne laughed at such absurdity. “John and I hate each other. On a scale from one to ten, he’s a negative thirty. I find him as appealing as gum disease.”

He smiled and pulled her close to his side. “You have a unique way of expressing yourself. It’s one of the many things I like about you.”

Georgeanne laid her head on his shoulder and sighed with relief. “I was afraid I’d lose your friendship.”

“Is that all I am to you? A friend?”

She looked up at him. “No.”

“Good. I want more than friendship.” His lips brushed her forehead. “I could fall in love with you.”

Georgeanne smiled and ran her palm up his chest to his neck. “I could maybe fall in love with you, too,” she said, then she kissed him. Charles was exactly the kind of man she needed. Reliable and sane. Because of their hectic careers and busy lives, they didn’t get to spend a lot of time together completely alone. Georgeanne worked weekends, and if she had a free night, she spent it with Lexie. Charles usually didn’t work evenings or weekends, and as a result of their conflicting schedules, they met most often for lunch. Maybe it was time to change that. Maybe it was time to meet for breakfast. Alone. At the Hilton. Suite 231.